


Anonymous

by HQ_Wingster



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Artificial Intelligence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Attacks, Artificial Intelligence, Bonding, Cell Phones, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Christophe Giacometti & Victor Nikiforov Friendship, Cliffhangers, Depressed Victor Nikiforov, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Heavy Angst, Internet, Multi, News Media, Oblivious Katsuki Yuuri, POV Victor Nikiforov, Slow Burn, Social Anxiety, Social Media, Vacation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-15 08:32:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11802342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HQ_Wingster/pseuds/HQ_Wingster
Summary: If you have something to share, you can share. If you don’t, you don’t. Isn’t it better to hide the parts that people don’t need to see to keep your image?”Only after a stupid decision do you realize your mistake, and Viktor couldn't take back his words. Everything was perfect, everything that he said was true. The last comment shattered everything. And in this day and age, Viktor never realized of how many people actually listened to a word that he said until that tiny portion of the conference was leaked onto the internet.What he meant was:Keep your “downtime” separate from your professional life.What everyone else heard:I, Viktor Nikiforov, am an illicit character with dangerous motives.





	1. Speak

**Author's Note:**

> I give my thanks to @agape-rose on tumblr for supporting me through this with editing and creating a lovely playlist for me to listen to while writing this. admin buddies for life! booyah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His problem started because he wasn’t careful with his words. And now, he was being a burden because he refused to speak.

_ It’s not an early retirement if you make a comeback before the season starts.  _ Viktor pulled off his sunglasses when he reached the apartment complex. A jigsaw puzzle of a building with jutting balconies and clear-glass burned Viktor’s retinas, but he appreciated the rainbow of colors when he stepped out from the light. The click of his shoes as he approached the entrance, a hand raking down the stair-rail in a slow manner.

Even if he didn’t know Chris, the apartment complex had plenty personality for Viktor to get used to.

_ Sassy  _ like the stairways that trickled up and down, left and right as Viktor lugged his suitcase up and over steps. Hunched over, like a turtle inching forward while some latch-keys stared at him from the towering, off the edge patios. How a child could stand there and not shudder from the sheer height beneath their feet was a mysterious quality that Viktor never had while growing up.

Best for him, Viktor tugged his sunglasses on and looked forward. Keeping up his physique with manual labor, and the elevator was currently on Viktor’s  _ avoid-with-caution  _ list. He didn’t need another headline to pop up, hollering that he escaped from Russia  _ but  _ he didn’t escape from his problems.  _ Blah-blah-blah _ before someone embedded a link to an apparent “scandal” that Viktor orchestrated.

If one believed in hysterical media, but Viktor knew that Chris wasn’t like that.

If anything, Chris’ apartment was the safest place on earth, so Viktor rung the doorbell without a second-thought. Massaging his back after his luggage slipped off with a thud. Chris opened the door and a fluffy cat emerged from between his ankles. Sashaying around Viktor with her tail brushing up his leg before Chris called his cat back inside.

“Sorry about that.” Chris popped his lips. Scooped up his cat and cradled the Persian feline in his arms. “Emma has a liking for the men that come through this door.”

“Sounds like  _ you've  _ been busy.” Viktor tugged his own collar, loosening the wad of spit lodged in his throat. The unfurling wad plopped into his stomach just as Chris leaned in with a fluttering wink.

_ “I'm joking,”  _ he whispered, pulling Viktor in by the hand. Straddling his companion’s fingers between his own while Emma wiggled free from Chris’ hold. Nudging Viktor’s luggage into the apartment space before scratching the door shut. Like a tiny Human in a cat’s body,  if Viktor had ever seen one before!

Despite the cramped hallway and the unbuckling of shoes when Viktor squeezed past his host, Chris’ space wasn’t so bad. Small, but easily manageable with all the furniture.

Nothing in the living room was a mere decoration.

A good-sized couch in which Chris revealed to be a futon,  _ whenever he had guests around,  _ and there was a modest dining table near the window. For the natural light to come in during the evenings, saving electricity and giving the dining furnishings a touch of orange. An overhanging lamp for nightly reading and a overhead projector to broadcast the nightly news over a white wall. 

Viktor never realized how frugal Chris was until he realized that there were only three rooms in the entire apartment space!

The living room was connected to a miniature kitchen while an even smaller bathroom was off in the corner, in its own separate room. Other than those two, the hallway leading to the front door was its own, private space. And yet, Chris had managed this lifestyle for nearly eight years. With Emma and whatever guest that happened to drop by.

Chris hovered next to Viktor, fluttering a mile a minute nudging his pal with an elbow.

“I know I don’t have as much  _ space  _ as you do in St. Petersburg,  _ but--” _ Chris gestured to whole of his apartment space with a grand flourish “--this is home to me. So I hope, this can be home to you. Too.”

_ “It’s perfect.” _ Viktor collapsed on the edge of the futon-couch, scratching his ankle with a foot. “I love it, Chris. Wow.”

Chris rubbed the back of his neck, a tinge of color riding high over his cheekbones.

“You’re gonna make me blush. That. Won’t. Do.”

He clapped his fingers and showed Viktor where he can stow his clothes for the time-being. Pulling up a loose tile off from the wooden floor, Chris revealed a hidden space right underneath their feet. Where plastic bins, full of clothes, laid to rest. And even with that, Chris only kept the essentials. Better yet, Chris mentioned that he gave some of his clothes away to a local charity so that Viktor would have space for his own.

If that wasn’t friendship, Viktor wouldn’t know how to describe it.

Even if he didn’t have the word, Viktor was at a loss to how much Chris was willing to do to keep him safe. From the media-hounds that turned a off-the-cuff statement into something worthy of a scandal.

Case in point: during a charity event a few weeks ago, a fan asked Viktor why he rarely interacted with social media accounts. Tongue in cheek, Viktor merely stated that he preferred to keep his life private.

With a reputation on his shoulders and too many fans to keep track of, Viktor naturally allowed his accounts to collect dust. There wasn’t anything  _ particularly  _ interesting in his life, and precious practice-time would dwindle down to nothing if he kept up with all the media trends and answered the onslaught of nosy questions that popped in at every minute. Until Viktor customized his notifications and found his inner-silence again.

He only had one purpose for creating such accounts:  _ Because he had to. _

Everyone else was following a trend that Viktor had to follow. Otherwise, he’ll dwindle to nothing in the skating community and the past ten years would’ve been a waste. A  _ dead  _ waste, a heavy weight that was even worse than the ball and chain tethered to Viktor’s neck when he pulled off an insincere smile, directed to the curious fan.

The media had a field day with that. Or perhaps, it was the way Viktor responded.

Despite years of study, his English was still rusty. Not to be taken seriously, unless he was serious.

Viktor,  _ himself, _ couldn’t see what went wrong until he saw a video that someone had recorded during the conference. After the charity event in Singapore.

* * *

 

_ “If you have something to share, you can share. If you don’t, you don’t. Isn’t it better to hide the parts that people don’t need to see to keep your image?” _

* * *

 

Only after a stupid decision do you realize your mistake, and Viktor couldn't take back his words. Everything was perfect, everything that he said was true. The last comment shattered everything. And in this day and age, Viktor never realized of how many people actually listened to a word that he said until that tiny portion of the conference was leaked onto the internet.

What he meant was:  _ Keep your “downtime” separate from your professional life. _

What everyone else heard:  _ I, Viktor Nikiforov, am an illicit character with dangerous motives. _

It didn’t help that Viktor was the oldest of Yakov’s pupils, and that in of itself spurred up some  _ nasty  _ rumors that followed him. Everywhere he went, before he threw St. Petersburg behind him and came to Switzerland to stay in a safe haven with Chris.

He couldn’t bring Makkachin. Having to leave the retired poodle with a confused Yurio before driving himself to the Aeroloft airport. Not daring to risk another exposure for the media to lap up.

It was sad to leave behind his pink ferrari, but Viktor kept the car keys. He also kept a spare in the little compartment in the dashboard for Georgi. A good parting gift. If Georgi was willing to break into the car. Or perhaps, Georgi would call AAA-- _ or Triple A-- _ to tow the car somewhere so that Georgi could retrieve the keys safely.

Either way, Viktor left definite hints that he wasn’t returning to St. Petersburg anytime soon. Not until the “scandal” died down. So for the meantime, Viktor was  _ here  _ and Chris was next to him on the futon-couch. Consoling his brother in arms-- _ skating arms-- _ with a firm grip on the shoulder. About to give a hug, but Chris dropped his arm. Opting to nudge Viktor in the gut before Viktor grabbed Chris’ arm and clung to it. Resting his head on the crook of Chris’ shoulder while a Swiss lullaby resonated deep, from within Chris’ throat. Only then  did he wrap an affirmative arm around Viktor.

The two sat in silence for a long time until Chris’ mysterious boyfriend stumbled into the apartment space, opening the door slowly with a bag of groceries. Noticing the heartfelt moment before closing the door behind him.  _ Softly. _ Shuffling across the wooden floor and dropping the groceries at the kitchen counter.

Chris broke the silence.

“Sammy, are you going to say anything?”

Mysterious boyfriend cocked his head to the side. Simply shrugged.

“You’re a good friend, Chris.”

“And a good spouse,” Chris added. Not forgetting his classic wink before squeezing Viktor like no tomorrow. And thus, Viktor realized that there weren’t just three occupants living in the apartment space. There were  _ four.  _ Him, Chris, Emma, and “Sammy”.

“Just call me Samuel.”

“I like your nickname better, but it doesn’t beat the real thing.” Chris leaned across the dining table and kissed Samuel’s cheek during dinner that evening. Viktor and Emma glanced at one another before digging right into their meal. Some fish and vegetables, but everything tasted better with company.

From the kooky cat that seemed to understand Viktor like a person, to the understanding Samuel that hoped Chris wasn’t giving Viktor a hard time, and to the adoring Chris that promised to give Viktor the respect he needed to recover.

He even set his fork down. “While you’re here, just relax. No skating, no morning jogs, and no answering to the reporters at your door.”

Samuel raised an eyebrow. “People did that?”

“Because of a misunderstanding,” Viktor said, biting a bit more fish than he could chew with the back of his fork.

The whole conversation was in French, and Viktor was grateful. Because for right now, he wanted to forget that he knew English so that he could start over again.

So as dinner ended and people took turns showering, Viktor simply stared out the window and watched the neighboring balconies light up like a midnight rainbow. Merely panels of floating glass that reflected off a distant memory of a world that Viktor once knew.

A world that was simpler, where technology hadn’t yet consumed the lives of the people he loved. But now, checking your phone wasn’t just a daily chore anymore. It was an integral part of one’s schedule and to remove it would only spell trouble. Heck, Viktor couldn’t be the only one who missed cassette tapes and VCR players and having to recite the Russian alphabet because of a childhood lisp that made the adults at school wonder if he had a speech-impediment. The last part was a throw-in, but Viktor kind of cherished those moments. Learning to speak properly was something that people took for granted, and Viktor already knew the deadly consequences without it.

He didn’t have a phone because of the “scandal”. Having broken it before arriving to Switzerland. All he had left was his sims-card.

So while cuddled on the futon-couch later that night, _ sandwiched between a married couple and a cat,  _ Chris mumbled that he was going to buy Viktor a new phone tomorrow morning.

“I don’t have a house phone and you’re not using a goddamn payphone,” Chris mumbled, rubbing his face into his pillow. Completely ignorant that three other heads shared the  _ exact,  _ same pillow as him. Make that two heads, because Emma decided to curl under the dining table.

Meanwhile, Viktor built a model of  _ The Great Wall  _ with the sprawled bedsheets, building a barrier between him and Chris. Chris whined and Samuel eventually fell asleep. Half of his body hanging off the futon to create more space, and the whole situation made Viktor self-conscious about being here.

But when he was at his lowest, Chris extended an inviting hand and promised him one thing.

_ “You’re not going to be alone during this recovery.” _

And Viktor really felt that, not minding as much when Chris crawled over the blanket-barrier and cuddled in between his husband and best friend.

 

\---

 

“Are you sure--?”

_ “You could strut around the city naked and no one would bat an eyelash.” _

The jingle of Chris’ keys eased Viktor back to reality, but he still wasn’t comfortable with the idea. Not the  _ “naked” _ part, but the  _ “hey, I’m buying you a phone so just wear these clothes and no one will recognize you” _ part. At least Viktor got to wear his jacket.

A vibrant yellow hugging a gray tank top,  _ courtesy of Chris, _ and some board shorts that Samuel loaned for the disguise. Complete with a fisherman’s hat and flipflops, and Viktor was more appropriate for a beach-setting than wandering around in a local phone store. Looking for a new device to house his old sims-card.

Despite Chris’ reassuring words, Viktor felt too exposed. Like a walking billboard, just advertising that he was a foreigner and that he was trying way too hard to fit in. Every stare that happened to glance at him pushed Viktor over the edge. He breathed steadily while interacting with the display phones. Punching apps with his fingers and just hoping that he could leave. Soon or now.  _ Whichever came first. _

There were a few round tables displaying some of the latest phone cases, and Viktor felt at ease when he found a poodle-case. Reminded of Makkachin and of the life he had to leave behind.

Fumbling with the case between his fingers, Viktor found his inner-peace. If he could hold onto this case and potentially purchase it without something going wrong, he was going to be one step closer to normal. Or, close to normal. At normal.  _ Something. _

_ “Excuse me, Miss!”  _ Chris waved at an employee before gesturing to Viktor. “My friend here will like to purchase this poodle case.”

Viktor’s hair curled ever so slightly.  _ “What are you doing?” _

“I found you a phone.” Chris shook the Sony device gently, almost juggling it between his hands to keep Viktor’s attention. “You found yourself a case. Match made in Heaven.”

“No, you shouldn’t--”

Already too late. The female employee approached Chris and Viktor with a brand new poodle case in her hands. Sealed and packaged, ready to be paired with the phone of Chris’ choosing.

Viktor couldn’t facepalm or hiss. Simply pulled off a strained smile when the two items were scanned and while Chris reached into his pocket for his credit card.

Viktor knew that Chris was only helping, but everything was moving so quickly and he couldn’t keep up.

Already, Chris was sweet-talking to the employee for any slick deals, and Viktor just concentrated on breathing. Trying to find his centre in life, but his centre was rocked back and forth so many times that all Viktor could manage was a tiny  _ tsk  _ before Chris shot his attention to him.

Viktor wiggled his toes, staring at the knobby digits.  _ “I need to change shoes.” _

The words barely crept from his lips before Chris helped him with breathing. Inhale for five seconds, exhale for seven. Rinse and repeat, and Chris didn’t object when Viktor held onto his hand. Gripping it for support before gathering the purchases. Nearly weak in the knee before the employee asked,

“Would you like to upgrade your phone?”

An innocent question, but Viktor wasn’t ready for it. He shook his head like a wet dog but to the employee, she saw Viktor nod. Chris facepalmed himself.  _ Literally. _

“We have several upgrades to choose from, but our most popular choice is the AI-Unit.” From somewhere under the cashier block, the employee revealed a black box with some Asian characters splattered across the underbelly while a tiny, chibi-ish character popped out from a display phone on the cover face. Emoting like an emoticon, and Viktor was about as done as he could be. Ready to slip into French, ready to tell the employee that he was ready to leave.

_ “Je m’en vais”  _ or a radical  _ “Hasta la vista, baby.” _

If the world was against him, so was Chris.

Chris just had to pull out his phone and show Viktor the little AI-Unit hovering over his screen when he turned his phone on.

“They’re so cute! Look, you can customize their appearance and clothes.” Chris ran a finger over a wardrobe app and showcased all the chibi outfits that the chibi could wear. The more Viktor stared at it, the more he came to realize that he was looking at a chibi-version... _ of himself. _

His eyebrow twitched. “Oh, you shouldn’t have.”

“And you can command them to do whatever you want~”

“Chris, you  _ really  _ shouldn’t have.” Viktor's eyebrow twitched when chibi-him jumped into the Twitter app and emerged with an armful of tweets. And just like that, tweets exploded over Chris’ screen and he weeded out the messages that were hurtful to find the funny side-stories from his adoring fans.

“And--!”

_ ‘Are you a paid advertisement right now?’  _ Viktor shot daggers with his eyes.

_ ‘I didn’t know you want one too!’  _ Chris glanced back, a friendly smile cutting across his face.

“My friend here seems pleased. He’ll take the upgrade.”

_ That’s not what I meant! _

And so, Viktor endured fifteen more minutes of breathing and ignoring Chris before he got his Sony back. Now with an AI-Unit upgrade, to boot.  _ Great _ . At least he got to keep the box, but Viktor couldn’t read the instructions.

Besides, Chris had already spent an additional fifty euros for the upgrade, so Viktor had to suck it up and deal with it until he knew what he wanted to do. Until then, Viktor huddled in a corner of Chris’ apartment space with Emma, the cat, when they got back. Just huddled in the darkness while Chris tried to coax him with sightseeing and some local cafes that he knew.

“I just want to be alone,” Viktor mumbled. “Can you spare me that?”

“Is it about what happened earlier?” Chris kept his distance, but he did approach Viktor. Just close enough where he didn’t have to raise his voice to be heard. “I’m sorry. Got carried away.”

“You ignored how uncomfortable I was.” Viktor cradled Emma close to his chest. His constricted on its own. _ “You knew that I wanted to leave, but--” _

“Breathe.” That was all Chris could say before Viktor stabbed him with words.

_ “You don’t know what this feels like!” _

Emma leapt out from Viktor’s hold and hid behind Chris’ feet. Fur on edge while a sullen brow darkened Chris’ features. He lowered his head with a sigh.

“You’re right, I don’t.”  _ Skaters often have fragile hearts of glass. _ “I thought we could forget the issues and be ourselves, but I’ve pushed you too far.”

Just like that, another person was affected by Viktor’s words, and he couldn’t take back what he said.

Chris left Viktor alone, but he scribbled down his phone number and the address to a nice cafe nearby. If Viktor got hungry.

With Emma in his arms, Chris left and locked the door.

Viktor was alone.

The same loneliness that haunted him in St. Petersburg was back, and he couldn’t just run out and ask Chris to stay. Not after what happened.

He knew that Chris would come to accept his apology, but Viktor didn’t know how long it would take and he wanted to be with someone right now. But at the same time, he wanted them to stay away. So that no one else would get hurt because of a misguided phrase.

After a long while, Viktor picked up his purchases and fiddled around with them. Slipped his sims-card in the back of the Sony and worked through memory lane, trying to remember phone numbers of the people he used to know.

There was Yakov and his bear-hugs when Viktor was a younger skater. There was Georgi and how he taught Viktor how to apply makeup to accentuate his features. There was Mila and the fiery passion that she cloaked Viktor with before every program. There was Yurio and the teen’s unruly drive to beat Viktor at every turn of an event.

There were so many people, but Viktor was at a loss. Numbers that he once knew slipped out from his mind. But then, his phone started buzzing. Texts and missed calls sprung up, and Viktor swiped them all away. Regretted it and found them again, but they were from numbers that he couldn’t recognize.

He wanted to say something, but his fingers just froze over the keyboard. He couldn’t read the comments, his ears were deaf to the voice-messages, and he couldn’t say anything.

A prisoner in his own body, the key already thrown away.

He thought about breaking the phone, but Chris had already spent quite a small fortune on it already. All he could do now was breathe.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Inhale for five seconds, exhale for seven.

Enough to even out Viktor’s mind for a moment. Everything was going to be okay. Viktor tried to smile, but he honestly forgot how to. Even the chibi-version of him on Chris’ phone knew how to smile, and Viktor recognized the heart-shape mouth as soon as he saw it!

Speaking of chibi-version, Viktor had an AI-Unit on this phone. Scrolling through the factory apps, he found the app that would “wake up” his chibi. He just had to press it.

What if the AI didn’t like him? No, that was silly. AI couldn’t comprehend feelings like that. All they could do was check the internet, handle social media accounts, and were programmed to do whatever their owner wanted. No mind of their own. That gave Viktor some reassurance.  _ In a weird way. _

With  _ something  _ in mind, Viktor clicked on the app and a little chibi wiggled out. Stuck in the middle because of a full tummy, but the chibi sucked its gut in and popped out. Smacking its tiny head against the top of the screen before floating back to the bottom.

So this was Viktor’s chibi guy... _ girl _ .... _ guy? _ Were AI-Units assigned a gender? You know what, Viktor clicked on the chibi-app and checked the profile of his AI. Just a brief description of what the AI-Unit could do. Well,  _ that  _ wasn’t helpful.

Not enough to distract Viktor when his AI-Unit began to speak.

_ “My name’s Katsuki Yuuri and it’s a pleasure to finally meet you!”  _ Yuuri bowed his head, and Viktor hadn’t prepared his heart for the adorable voice emitted from his phone’s speakers.

Little Yuuri had a blue scarf tucked over his neck and a thick trench coat. Winter? No, it was summer right now. Viktor would have to change Yuuri’s outfit, but why? AI-Units don’t get hot or cold. Or did they?

Today wasn’t Viktor’s day, so screw it.

_ “I’m your personal AI-Unit starting today. If you request for a different language, I can switch to my other voice-boxes if you wish.”  _ Yuuri extended his fist out, as if he wanted Viktor to bump it. Viktor bopped the tiny fist with a finger.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Y-Yuuri?” Did Viktor get that right?

_ “It’s a pleasure.”  _ Yuuri pressed his digital hands against the phone screen and waved. Viktor waved back, more confused than enthusiastic at this point.  _ “Do you need assistance with setting up your phone?” _

Viktor shook his head, wondering if he could mute the AI-Unit. There was probably an option in the settings somewhere.

He wasn’t in the mood to talk, but it was nice to hear someone’s voice. AI or not.

The biggest challenge now was rather simple. How was he going to get to the settings without Yuuri noticing?

One, why should Viktor even care? Yuuri was just a bunch of codes to begin with, but he never tore his eyes away from Viktor.  _ Even for a moment. _

A genuine smile coated his tiny face and Viktor froze. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t mute Yuuri. Nobody said he couldn’t ignore.

“I’m going to set-up my phone later. It was nice talking to you.”

_ “It was nice talking to you too, Viktor!” _

Viktor turned off his phone and flopped it onto the futon-couch. About to splash cold water onto his face before all the blood ran out from his face.

He never introduced himself to Yuuri, yet the AI-Unit knew his name.

Okay, Viktor had to think rationally. Yuuri probably took a glimpse into his text messages, but the AI-Unit never left the damn screen!

“I’m overthinking this,” Viktor muttered, but he didn’t feel comfortable. What if Yuuri was listening to him right now? What if the AI was...Just to be safe, Viktor stuffed his phone under a pillow. To be even safer, Viktor turned on the overhead projector and switched to the sports channel in case Yuuri was listening.

So for the next hour and a half, Viktor reminded himself to breathe.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Inhale for five seconds, exhale for seven.

Rinse and repeat.

Gosh, Viktor was really getting annoyed with that saying, but it helped him get through this. Throughout the day, Viktor checked up on Yuuri. _ Periodically _ . Making sure that the AI-Unit wasn’t plotting world domination, or trying to kill him for whatever reason.

Every time Viktor turned on his phone, Yuuri was always there to greet him. With a smile, with a picture from Google Images, or he would hug the screen and squish his face against it. It was adorable,  _ Viktor had to admit, _ but he could never let his guard down.

Yuuri only had to say one phrase before Viktor had a sour taste in his mouth.

_ “Hi, Viktor!” _

“You don’t have to say that if you don’t want to,” Viktor said, after the twentieth greeting of the day. It wasn’t even lunchtime yet.

Yuuri twiddled his digital thumbs.  _ “I want to be polite. But if you don’t want me to say it, I can stop.” _

“Do whatever you want.” Viktor cursed himself for even uttering those words. What did he have to fear? There was only a certain range of things that Yuuri could do before he would admit that he couldn’t do it.

Did AI-Units understand freedom? Was Viktor really having an existential crisis because of Yuuri?

_ “Viktor, I have the top ten searches for a pharmacy if you need pain medication.”  _ Yuuri dropped his cutesy-act and for the first time, Viktor heard the AI’s actual voice. It was mellow, soft and rounded, and it quelled the discord in Viktor’s mind.

It was a nice voice, sounded almost too real to be a program’s.

Sighing, Viktor massaged his forehead. “No, just tired.”

_ “On YouTube, there’s a video that’s trending at the moment and it has soothing music. Do you want me to play it?” _

“I don’t know. Do you want to hear it?”

Here he was, folks. Viktor Nikiforov was speaking to a concerned AI-Unit, and he was actually enjoying the conversation. Despite the stutters and his inability to look Yuuri straight in the eye. Chills down his back when Yuuri said his name  _ oh-so  _ gently.

Viktor was uncomfortable, but he wanted to see how much he could handle before throwing the phone off the apartment. Watch it shatter in the parking lot down below.

Breathing steadily, Viktor closed his eyes and leaned back against the futon-couch. Yuuri played the soothing YouTube video, and the two didn’t talk much. Mainly just listening to the words that they didn’t say to each other.

Occasionally, Viktor opened his eyes and watched Yuuri. The AI-Unit balanced himself on the subscription button. Rocking his legs back and forth like a child on a pier, just enjoying the music and the serenity around him.

The two eventually talked again, and it was more genuine.

Viktor mumbled that he wanted to apologize to someone very close to him. He didn’t give many details, but Yuuri managed with that. Asking simple “yes” or “no” questions before arriving to his conclusion.

_ “I think you’re a good friend for apologizing. Not because you were right and the other was wrong. But because you value your friendship with this person, and it means a lot more to you than having something go your way.” _

Viktor cocked his head. “Thank you?”

Yuuri exposed a rather shy smile before scratching the back of his neck, sheepishly.

_ “If you feel annoyed or angry or very emotional, take a deep breath in and take a deep breath out. That way, you won’t have to say the words you’ll regret.” _

Viktor took those words to heart.

Just as well, Chris came into the apartment about forty seconds later and Viktor chucked his phone under a pillow. Snapping the device off, and the music froze in mid-beat.

Chris raised an eyebrow when he closed the door behind him, letting Emma down on the floor. The cat scurried under the dining table, watching as two best friends bridged the gap in between them.

To hug? _ No. _ To reconcile their past differences?  _ Well… _

“Now I know you like chicken.” Chris pulled a crumpled coupon out from his breast pocket. “And I have this coupon for a date-meal.”

Viktor raised a tentative eyebrow as Chris rambled on.

“Samuel is pescatarian, so…” His tongue danced over the words he wanted to say, but they spilled anyway. “Would you,  _ my rival,  _ like to eat lunch with me,  _ your friend?” _

Silence, until Viktor started laughing like no tomorrow, Chris’ eyes lit up, and they went out for their chicken lunch.

In reality, Viktor was touched. When he tried to apologize for earlier, Chris said that there was no bad blood between them. Also, it was nice to see Viktor  _ smile  _ again. Viktor touched his face and felt the familiar dimples of one before the gesture grew bigger. Chris teased the heart-shape smile and waved the chicken coupon to entice Viktor to follow him. Of course, they fed Emma and told the cat to keep the apartment safe from robbers and strange people.

Emma rubbed her ear with a paw. “Meow.”

“You’re a good sport, Emma.” Chris cuddled with his cat one last time before taking Viktor out to lunch. All the while, Viktor left Yuuri behind.  _ Purposely. _

 

\---

 

Chris turned on his phone and slid it across the cafe table. Viktor dropped his salad fork and started talking to his chibi-self.

As he thought, the chibi didn’t respond back. Ignorant to Viktor’s words or in reality, the AI-Unit couldn’t hear because there was a screen in between them. But whatever the case, chibi-him was running around and hopping over apps like a toddler. Not paying attention until Viktor clicked on it, and the thing looked up at him with chirpy eyes. Options listed off in a speech bubble, protruding from its mouth.

Viktor didn’t breathe until Chris nudged him under the table with his foot. Waving a forkful of chicken in front of Viktor so that he could actually look at his friend.

“Something wrong with your AI-Unit?” Chris asked, pulling his phone back to himself.

Viktor shook his head, but he needed to confirm something.

“Your AI-Unit doesn’t talk on its own, does it?”

“Do speech bubbles count?” Chris held up his phone, showing the different options that chibi-Viktor had. There were some social media suggestions, trending topics, and any missed calls or texts that Chris may’ve been ignoring for the past week. Other than that, Viktor saw nothing strange. Nothing that reminded him of  _ Yuuri. _

A rough piece of lettuce slid down his throat.

He left Yuuri at home.

As a sentient AI-Unit, was Yuuri upset? Or, was he waiting for Viktor to pick up the phone so that he could greet the Russian again? Horrifically enough, Yuuri knew his name and Viktor couldn’t figure out why. True, the AI-Unit could’ve searched him up. Probably recorded bits of his voice and uploaded it to an auditory search browser to find him.

The thought that a single piece of technology was capable of doing all of that ran Viktor’s blood cold.

Chris snapped his fingers. “Where’s your phone?”

“Left it at home,” he mumbled, expecting to hear one of Chris’ lectures.

Chris didn’t say anything, but he told Viktor to stay close to him so that they won’t get separated. Switzerland was a big country, and Chris’ hometown was a slice from the wedding cake.

 

\---

 

There were certain things that an AI-Unit couldn’t do.

Yuuri wasn’t supposed to get close to Viktor. Granted, he could sit on an app all day and rock his legs back and forth until the man needed his assistance, but that moment never came.

A week had passed since Viktor purchased him from the local phone store, and it had been a week since Viktor last interacted with his phone. Yuuri had the power to turn the screen on to see what was going on, but he would be invading into Viktor’s privacy.

So, Yuuri had no choice but to wait patiently. But even so, he had a job to do.

Texts and missed calls piled. More and more every day until there were too many to keep track of. Yuuri did his best, and he tried not to listen to the voice messages or read the texts. However, he couldn’t help but wonder one thing:  _ Why was Viktor doing this _ ?

A simple response was enough to suffice, but Yuuri wasn’t Viktor and Viktor needed to say something.  _ Anything. _

The phone’s battery was dying.

 

\---

 

For his own safety, Viktor kept his phone hidden in the secret compartment under the loose floorboard. Stashed between his clothes, kept the phone on silent while Viktor moved in and out of the apartment space. Whether with Chris, with Samuel, or with both.

His roommates weren’t aware of what he was doing, and Viktor knew it was for the best.

He kept on a fake smile every time he took a step away from the threshold, never looking to where he hid Yuuri.

 

\---

 

Unknown:  _ Viktor, where are you? _

Unknown:  _ Please tell us you’re alive. God, Yakov’s going to go bald if you don’t show up at the rink tomorrow. _

Unknown:  _ Let us know that you’re okay. _

Unknown:  _ We miss you. Please let us know if you’re okay. _

Unknown:  _ Please come back home. _

 

\---

 

The police showed up at the apartment one afternoon.

Viktor was lounged across the futon-couch, snoozing with Emma on his chest. Samuel was out buying flowers for some family, and Chris was scrolling through his Twitter feed when the front door was smashed down by burly policemen and women. Chris and his  _ mile-a-minute _ mouth quickly asked what was going on and explained that he nor Viktor had called for them.

Viktor watched as an officer pulled something up on her phone. A picture of Viktor, himself. The man hadn’t done anything wrong and yet, there were officers in Chris’ apartment and the front door had seen better days.

Viktor managed to catch snippets of what was going on. Someone had tipped the police that he had been missing for a week and a half now.

Chris was under suspicion, but Viktor jumped right into the conversation and talked him and Chris out from danger. Explaining that he had moved to Switzerland by his own free-will and that he told his loved ones in Russia of where he was going.

The officers saw the lie plastered across Viktor’s face, saying that very worried rink mates and a coach had tried contacting him for days but he never responded. Viktor explained that he had lost his phone at the airport, and that he had been trying to find time to buy a new one.

The talk took about an hour before the officers left the apartment.

And even then, Viktor wasn’t out of the fire.

“Get your phone and call your rink mates and Yakov.  _ Now.”  _ Chris never raised his voice, but Viktor wished that he did. He couldn’t run away from an irrational fear, and he had a sneaking feeling that Yuuri tipped off the police.  _ Who else would do it? _ But even so, Viktor couldn’t keep his mouth zipped forever.

His problem started because he wasn’t careful with his words. And now, he was being a burden because he refused to speak. Down on his knees, Viktor loosened the floorboard over the secret compartment and pulled out his Sony phone.

He glanced up. Chris watched him from the corner of his eye. Evidently frustrated and confused as to why Viktor was trying to make himself suffer  _ this  _ much.

Viktor didn’t know the answer either, but he had to face the truth when he turned on his phone for the first time in days. And despite the low battery and the sudden drop in communication, Yuuri popped onto the screen and wished Viktor a usual greeting. Viktor had a finger on the mute button so that Chris wouldn’t hear, and he only talked to Yuuri when he made it outside.

He turned the volume up.

_ “Long time, no see.”  _ Yuuri was different from what Viktor remembered. The AI-Unit was a sickly, pale color with a nearly starved expression when he leaned against the Google app for support. Very weak because the phone battery was low and starved from all sorts of communication, but Yuuri wasn’t upset when he saw Viktor again. He cried. Tears of joy and hugged his side of the screen, yelling that he missed Viktor that something had happened to him.

_ “I’m sorry” _ was what Viktor wanted to say, but Yuuri wasn’t the only one Viktor had to apologize to.

There was Yakov, Mila, Georgi, Yurio, his parents, Chris, Samuel, and....A simple apology like  _ “I’m sorry” _ would never heal the damage that Viktor caused, and he was afraid to say what he really meant.

What if someone twisted his words again? What if he couldn’t say the things that people wanted to hear? All of it would be for nothing, and Viktor damned it all.

“I’m sorry.” The words slipped from Viktor’s lips, just as easily as his tears when the man collapsed against the apartment’s railing. Shoving his tears away, but they spilled without a dam and Viktor didn’t know what to do.  _ “I’m sorry. So, so sorry.” _

He squeezed his phone until his arm shook from the force. Yuuri screamed when Viktor raised his phone, about to shatter the Sony device into glass shards. All across the apartment floor.

But instead, Viktor cradled the precious device. He cradled the phone like it was a child. Rubbing his tears off the screen with his sleeve, and Yuuri wasn’t sure of what he needed to do.

Viktor was sad-- _ he couldn’t think of another word to describe the pain scribbled across the man’s face.  _ And yet, a sudden force grabbed ahold of Viktor and he was dialing numbers that Yuuri recognized from the text messages and missed calls. Yuuri tried to mute the sound of Viktor’s voice when he called family and friends. Bittersweet across his face, but there was something alive in Viktor’s voice. As if he finally understood something, and the man rambled on and on between his calling partners until Yuuri couldn’t help but listen.

Despite the tear stains, there was a crystal clear  _ smile  _ resonating from within Viktor’s voice. He said the words that had longed laid dormant within his heart, all the apologies and replies that he wanted to send but couldn’t do.  _ Until now. _

Yuuri drifted off to sleep in the middle of a conversation. Head tilted back before his eyes closed on their own.

_ “I love you.” _

That was Viktor’s voice and Yuuri was happy for whoever received it.

 

\---

 

That night at dinner, the Sony phone was plugged to its charger and given a good boost. The clink of dinnerware filled the silence over the dining occupants. Samuel,  _ oblivious to what happened earlier, _ kept glancing back and forth between Viktor and Chris. Wondering what happened between them.

Chris, stabbing vegetables on his salad plate like they were victims. Viktor, poking through the lettuce and carrots. Mopping up the excess vinaigrette with a baby lettuce leaf before Samuel opened his mouth to say something.

Chris beat his husband to the sucker punch. “Did you call?” Stabbing the carrot was an  _ emphasize, _ not a statement.

Viktor nodded. Albeit, it was a rough gesture. As if his neck was a rusty joint, and he felt more robotic while Yuuri grew evermore alive

Now that the Sony device was fully charged and functional, Viktor pulled the phone out from its charger and turned on the screen. Little Yuuri popped out from his chibi-app, wearing an animal-onesie with floppy ears. A bowl of noodles in his arms, his late-night dinner. Even though it was six at night.

_ “It’s nice to meet you all. My name is Katsuki Yuuri, and I am Viktor Nikiforov’s AI-Unit.”  _ The AI held up a sideways peace-sign. The simple gesture cracked whatever self-control Viktor had left. Yuuri knew his name and goddamnit, the AI also knew his  _ surname. _

Viktor gestured at Yuuri with his fork, nearly scratching the screen.  _ This  _ was what he had to deal with. His roommates had other thoughts.

“I think he’s cute,” Chris chirped.

“A happy fellow,” Samuel added, giving Yuuri a cheery wave.

Viktor needed a moment to pick up his jaw. “AI shouldn’t be able to do this.”

“Viktor, you should count yourself lucky.” Chris waved his salad fork around. “If an AI cares enough to call the police to make sure that you’re okay, its a keeper.”

“What police…?” Samuel’s voice trailed off when Chris shushed him, finger to his lips.

Utter betrayal wasn’t the right description for this scene, but Viktor sure felt it. Samuel and Chris deemed Yuuri as okay, but Viktor couldn’t shake off his discomfort.

Was it because the AI knew his name-- _ forwards, backwards, full, and shortened?  _ If Yuuri knew his name, all it took were a few key punches before thousands of articles popped up. Showing a “scandal” that Viktor had been running from for weeks.

So if Viktor retraced his steps and analyzed this  _ fear  _ of his, was he more afraid of an AI knowing his identity  _ or,  _ was he afraid that Yuuri was going to judge him differently? The last week and a half  _ really  _ cemented the cruel depiction that the media painted of Viktor but despite it all, Yuuri welcomed him with open arms after all this time.

_ Why? _

 

\---

 

_ “I’ve known you for fifteen years.” _

Viktor nearly choked on his peppermint mouthwash. Spitting the acidic chemical down the porcelain, bathroom sink. Rinsing water down the drain and into his mouth before coughing all of that out too. His phone leaned against the bathroom mirror, and chibi-Yuuri was brushing his teeth. As  _ if  _ an AI needed that sort of thing.

Burping up a bit of mouthwash, Viktor turned the faucet off. Held onto the sink’s brim for support before he finally managed to look Yuuri in the eye. Ignoring the cinnamon colors and the doey expression that attempted to melt his heart.

“You don’t just say that!”

Yuuri blinked.  _ “But it’s true.” _

Viktor smacked his forehead against the sink.

At this point, Chris hollered from the living room that Viktor was in denial. And if anything was damaged, Viktor was going to have to pay for it. Samuel mumbled that Viktor didn’t have to pay, and Chris whispered back that he was just teasing.

All the while, Yuuri pulled up an article of fifteen different ways to treat a bruise. Pressed his cheek against the phone screen, making sure that Viktor was okay. And when the man got up, _ a red blotch over his forehead, _ Yuuri suggested that he get some ice.

There wasn’t a malicious piece of code in Yuuri’s body, and the AI-Unit had already proved his loyalty. For once, Viktor had to give Yuuri a chance. Even if it was a small one, but there was still one more thing that Viktor needed to know.

He rested his chin against the sink’s brim. “Yuuri?”

The AI-Unit tossed his toothbrush into his app.  _ “What is it, Viktor?” _

“How do you know my name?”

_ Checkmate.  _ If Yuuri had been playing a game with Viktor, the man knew that he won  _ against  _ the machine. Yuuri’s facial expression didn’t change, but there was pregnant pause in between them. Did Viktor finally break Yuuri? No, the AI-Unit sort of laughed it off. Saying that it was only natural to recognize someone famous.

“You probably saw me for two minutes after I turned you on.” Viktor mentally facepalmed himself, but he kept a steady eye on the quivering AI-Unit.

_ “Do you know how many articles the internet can pull up in two minutes?”  _ Was that sass in Yuuri’s tone?  _ Oh, _ two could play at this game.

“Didn’t you say that you knew me for  _ fifteen years?”  _ Viktor crossed his arms, resting his case. “Hell, there were flip phones fifteen years ago, and most people still used dial-up internet.”

And for the first time, Yuuri turned off the phone. Viktor knew that he couldn’t hide the phone, unless he wanted another break-in by the Swiss Police Force. He kept the phone on the dining table before snuggling into the futon-couch with Emma, Samuel, and Chris.

Safe to say, he didn’t sleep well that night. Viktor backed Yuuri into a corner, and how was that any different from the neglect during the past week and half? Ever since Viktor first saw the chibi’s face, Yuuri had been nothing but sweet and polite to him.

Viktor couldn’t describe himself the same way. So in the middle of the night, he slept close to the dining table. Propped a chair back and slept that way. Laying his phone against his chest to give Yuuri some company.

They both didn’t feel so lonely anymore.

 

\---

 

That morning, Viktor jogged to the top of the apartment complex to catch the sunrise. He recorded it with his phone and sent the video to his rink mates and Yakov, back at home. But even more so, Viktor revived his old social media accounts.

Almost immediately, a sudden haze of fans popped up. Ecstatic that Viktor was back, posting comments of their excitement, and just happy to see their idol again. Even if it was through a Swiss sunrise.

Vikor was overwhelmed. The comment he was reading quickly got buried under new ones, and Viktor couldn’t keep up. Soon, he was juggling between five social media accounts, trying his best to catch every piece of support from his global fanbase.

_ “Would you like me to filter your messages?”  _ Hanging on top of Twitter’s search bar was Yuuri, wearing his usual scarf and trench coat before floating down to the bottom of the screen.

“Filter all the spam and memes if you can.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes.  _ “As you wish.” _

Like clockwork, Yuuri did his magic and Viktor felt much better. Scrolling through more heartfelt messages and wishes.

There were a lot of people who stood up for him after the “scandal”, he realized. A lot of people said that the media twisted what he meant, and loads of supporters understood why he couldn’t interact as much like other skaters.

People told him to not rush, to do what made him feel comfortable. That it wasn’t the amount of posts that you made, but the amount of care that you placed into each one. Quickly, the sunrise video was the most memorable thing across all five of Viktor’s accounts because people enjoyed of how raw and genuine it was.

That was when Viktor realized that Yuuri had been reading all the same comments that he had been reading.

“I’m guessing you know about the scandal. Searched it up and read all the articles without me knowing at some point.”

Yuuri shrugged.  _ “You’re not a bad person, but you do jump to conclusions without proper investigating.” _

Viktor rolled his eyes, mocking to flick the AI-Unit with his fingers. “Whatever you say.”

 

\---

 

Viktor didn’t know whether it was a peace offering, or if Yuuri was up to something.

Whenever Yurio or Yakov texted Viktor, he would turn on his phone and see one of the latest Instagram posts from Yurio or a screaming tweet from Yakov. It was actually pretty funny.

Yuuri picked the best tweets, and Viktor had fun with adding his own sly comments. Just for kicks and giggles for his dear, old coach. With Yurio’s occasional cat selfies with Poyta, Viktor retaliated with old selfies from Makkachin. Revealing bits of a private life that he never shared.

Yuuri gushed like a kid in a candy store when he saw the Makkachin selfies, and Viktor took some screenshots so that Yuuri could be in the pictures too.

Shoot, Viktor let Yuuri keep the screenshots in his memory-code-thing. Whatever the technicals were, and Yuuri wondered if this was Viktor’s way of a peace offering.

 

\---

 

“Happy birthday, Sammy!” Chris yanked the confetti poppers. Gold and silver streamers popped out and tangled themselves into Samuel’s hair when he blew out the candle, mounted to the top of his stack of pancakes.

Emma drummed the dining table with her paws and shook a birthday hat off of her head when she climbed onto a present. Viktor dusted confetti and stray streamers away from the food before Chris roped him into a selfie. Pressed to the right of Samuel while Chris was to the left. Emma was sitting on Samuel’s lap, and Viktor balanced his Sony phone on top of the cat’s fur.

Splashed across the screen was Yuuri, and the AI-Unit held up a peace sign before Chris counted up.

“One.”

Emma brushed her tail against Viktor’s phone, and the Sony device slipped to the right.

“Two.”

Viktor ducked down from his pose. Catching his phone and Yuuri before  _ both  _ shattered across the floor.

_ “Three!” _

Viktor stood up so quickly that there was a grayish blur to Samel’s right in the selfie, and Chris laughed and snorted that Viktor looked like an alien that beamed down to earth.

In retaliation, Yuuri snapped a series of pictures of Chris’ laugh, and displayed the wackiest picture that he took. Enough to crack laughter out of Viktor and Samuel while Chris clutched his chest dramatically and gasped. There may’ve been a picture war involved but afterwards, Chris asked Viktor if he wanted to change AI-Units.

Viktor knew that Chris was joking, of course. That didn’t stop Viktor from cradling his phone close to his chest, saying that he couldn’t give-up on a friend. When those words slipped out, Chris cooed that Viktor and Yuuri’s relationship had finally progressed! _ Strangers to friends! _

Viktor looked the other way, but his ears were red. Yuuri laughed nervously, but he didn’t tear his gaze away from Viktor.

If an AI-Unit had a heartbeat, someone would’ve heard Yuuri’s.

 

\---

 

It had been a month since Viktor lived with Chris and Samuel, and he was already thinking about going back to St. Petersburg. He hated to admit it, but he had grown soft.

It wasn’t noticeable at first until Viktor realized that walking up eight flights of stairs wasn’t as easy anymore. Hell, he was twenty-seven and he was already starting to hunch over. So even though Chris had told before to relax and not train, Viktor couldn’t just let  _ this  _ happen.

So when he had the apartment space to himself, Viktor worked on his stretches. Skimmed through some YouTube videos and worked to build back his flexibility.

He propped his phone against a couch cushion and laid a towel across the floor before he began, but there was a slight problem. Adorable, little Yuuri was watching him from the corner of the screen. Poking his head over the play button, just watching Viktor go through his warm-up routine.

In a locker room or on the ice rink, Viktor wouldn't have cared. Except, he was at a friend’s place and a very life-like, AI-Unit was pretty much peeping on him. It was unnerving in so many ways, but Viktor kept his cool. Or, tried to.

“Whatcha doing?”

Yuuri squeaked and hid himself behind the play button to a ballet warm-up. Honestly, Viktor saw the hem of Yuuri’s trench coat sticking out on the bottom, but he pretended that he didn’t notice when he got closer to his phone.

“Oh, I wonder where Yuuri went? Is he  _ here?”  _ Viktor turned his phone from landscape to portrait, and Yuuri slipped out from his hiding space. Slid down the description on the YouTube video and surfed across the related videos on the side before hiding again. “Or, is he  _ here?”  _ Viktor exited the YouTube app, and Yuuri crashed down a stairway of apps.

Having to leap across the blocks to find another hiding space, but Viktor returned his phone to landscape-mode. Yuuri held onto the GPS app for dear life.

_ “This isn’t funny, Viktor!” _

“Why were you spying on me?”

_ “I wasn’t. I swear!”  _ Yuuri could barely hang onto the GPS app. His arms shook so badly.

“Really?” Viktor turned his phone three-sixty. Yuuri slipped and the screen went black. Viktor tried to turn on the phone, but nothing changed. He messed up, badly. “Yuuri?” He tapped the screen with his finger. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” Nothing happened. “Do you want to watch some of my old skating videos?”

The screen turned on. Yuuri poked his head out from behind the Facebook app.

_ “Can we watch your performance from Hungary?” _

“That old one?” Viktor scratched under his chin. “I don’t think it was  _ that  _ interesting.”

_ “It was the first time I ever saw you!” _

Viktor stared at Yuuri, and Yuuri looked the other way. Slowly clicked on the YouTube app and started searching for the performance. All the while, Viktor remembered what Yuuri had told him before.

The AI-Unit had known him for fifteen years. The video that played across Viktor’s phone screen was the first time they met each other.  _ Technically. _

When Viktor glanced over at Yuuri, the tiny AI-Unit simply watched younger-Viktor in awe.

Hands balled into fists, clutched close to his chest as Viktor worked through his step-sequence. All while wearing a costume that signified  _ bondage  _ between two partners in a passionate dance. Yuuri clapped after all the successful jumps and leaps of faith. And perhaps, there was something almost  _ Human  _ in the way he watched younger-Viktor.

Present-Viktor didn’t know what to think.

 

\---

 

When Viktor finally decided that it was time for him to move back to St. Petersburg, he took a little trip back to the local phone store. Not in a garish outfit like last time, but in “normal” clothes.

Something decent, where he could blend into the community. Viktor took out his phone and waited at one of the help desks until an employee approached him. Viktor covered his Sony’s microphone with his jacket sleeve.

“Hi, I believe there’s an issue with the upgrade I received for this phone.”

For the days leading up to this, Viktor had recited those exact words to his reflection. Merely in whispers so that no one would hear, and the rational-side of him reassured him that this was the right thing to do.

An an old suspicion couldn’t die, and Viktor couldn’t trust someone. So willingly after a few happy moments in their relationship.

This was exactly what Viktor was afraid.

There were people obsessed with their phones, but Viktor was taking it to a whole new level. He was friends with a bunch of code. Because if you tore Yuuri apart and broke him down to his simple building blocks, you would naturally  _ just  _ find a bunch of code.  _ Nothing more. _

Viktor was ready to go home. He thought it over and knew that it was best to cut this relationship early while he still had the chance.

He was going to be back on the rink and training all over again, and he didn’t need anymore... _ distractions.  _ But even if Yuuri was a distraction while here in Switzerland, Yuuri was a wonderful and happy distraction.

It was better if Yuuri forgot all about Viktor so that he won’t be lonely when Viktor wasn’t around.

“Can you please describe the problem that you’re having?”

“Yes, my AI-Unit has become faulty.” The Sony device seared Viktor’s fingertips. “It’s not functioning properly like it did earlier this month.” Viktor brushed his bangs in front of his eyes, hoping to hide the waterworks. His throat didn’t constrict on him, but his own voice was ready to turn against him if Viktor wasn’t careful.

“Okay,” the employee sighed, scratching the back of her head. “Please take your sims-card out. Restarting the AI-Unit should only take around thirty minutes, and it’ll take another fifteen to work out the bugs. Is that alright?”

Viktor gave a slight nod before pushing his phone across the table. He could feel his own betrayal when he took his fingers off of the Sony device. And during the silent transaction, Viktor swore he heard a tiny voice whisper in his ear,

_ “What are you doing?” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on college admission essays and short answers so I don't know when I'll update this. :P


	2. Braver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The playgrounds they get rusty and your_  
>  _Heart beats another ten thousand times before_  
>  _I got the chance to say_  
>  _"I miss you"_  
>   
>  _When it gets hard_  
>  _I get a little stronger now_  
>  _I get a little braver now_  
>  _And when it gets dark_  
>  _I get a little brighter now_  
>  _I get a little wiser now_  
>  _Before I give my heart away_  
>   
>  -A Little Braver [New Empire]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back~

_ Viktor Nikiforov has never failed to surprise me. _

For as long as Yuuri could remember, that statement had always been true.

 

\---

 

On the year of Viktor’s senior debut, he got into an accident.

While warming up on the rink, someone from Hungary knocked him into him. A  _ supposed  _ accident, but many didn’t think so at the time. Not with the ruckus, the sudden silence, the pin-drop of a voice, and the scurry of a coach that hadn’t sprinted in years.

The Hungarian skater-- _ Mister Suspect-- _ came out alive and well, depending on which source you heard it from. What stayed the same was thus:  _ people thought that Viktor was going to die. _

On live television,  _ with the entire world tuning in for the European Divisions,  _ no one would ever forget the  _ stain  _ across the ice.

A slit down the neck. Fingers fumbling over the cold, tugging onto the hem of a bondage costume. The red sash kept Viktor’s fingers steady while cameras flashed,  _ on and off,  _ in the distance. A play-by-play as Yakov clawed onto the ice. Held back by other coaches, but the man was a stubborn fool when he had to be. Shouting in Russian, oblivious that no one understood him except for a fledgling Georgi and a tiny Mila back at the rink’s edge.

Huddled close. Mila looked up to Georgi, wondering what was wrong.

Georgi’s eyes never left the ice.

Sixteen years old-- _ a novice in the making, but a skater that was rising in the ranks-- _ and he held onto a seven-year-old’s hand. Rubbing the back of Mila’s knuckles and squeezing her close against him. Held sturdy because of her touch, and because a brotherly instinct took over.

Obligated to protect Mila’s childhood innocence.

_ “What’s going to happen to Vitya?”  _ Mila’s voice barely rose above a whisper.

_ “I don’t know.”  _ Georgi didn’t have a better answer.

Everyone else faded into the background. Even the coaches,  _ that tried to hold Yakov back, _ slowly vanished into obscurity until Yakov was by Viktor’s side. Clutching the teen’s hand and reassuring him that everything was going to be alright. It was hard to believe that when Viktor was at Death’s door, but the youth was resilient. Strength bubbling back into him, but oozing across his reflection. Smearing it with his life’s work.

Viktor’s lips moved, but no one heard his voice.

Perhaps, Yakov did because the coach never disclosed what his pupil said when the media hounded on him afterwards.

By the time help came, Viktor was slowly easing in and out from a concussion. Barely alive from all the blood loss. But in the end, he was responsive enough to still skate for the competition.

Albeit, fans were outraged, shouting that he needed to recover. Needed to rest, but Viktor was a stubborn fool in the making. The media captured that.

Intricate photographs of Viktor pulling his long hair back so that a nurse could administer medical-wraps around his forehead. The slit over his neck was stitched, but Viktor needed a professional hand before the injury ripped at the seam. Viktor reassured the nurse that he had everything under control.

There was very little that a sixteen-year-old could control, but Viktor didn’t fail to surprise.

Not with an eros-esque routine thumping through his veins like his bloody, beating heart. Not with an eros-esque costume, conveying the passion between two lovers with a simple chase of the skates. Viktor surprised everyone when he took gold for his senior debut, and it was a curse that kept on giving until Viktor finally decided,  _ “Enough is enough.” _

He never did heal from those injuries.  _ Not entirely, at least. _

Make-up concealed the scarring, but nothing could hide the fact that Viktor wasn’t exactly the same ever since that fall. Nor was Yakov, Georgi, or Mila.

None of them had quite recovered.

 

\---

 

A seat spun counter-clockwise to exit out from the latest Nikiforov interview. Something about a candid questionnaire with answers drew people near. An unwanted distraction.

Not with another week before a new assignment was coming in from a client. A simple kiss to a partner to transcend a frustration into something... _ more _ . Etched a plump hickey near the edge of a perky set of lips before the first sank into his seat in front of the computer.

A lackluster firework flickered between them, but they could splurge an entire world of touch later on. Definitely in a  _ cleaner  _ space than a room like  _ this, _ even if the fluffy carpet could provide something more for a carnal desire.

Candy wrappers and a few soda cans weren’t just decorations when he shoved his trash off his keyboard. A trail of crumbs spilling onto the carpeted floor when he pulled up the latest-assignment from the last client.

Chipped keys smashed under his fingertips when the order form was revised and edited.

_ “If you keep focusing on other people’s issues, we’ll never get this done.”  _ A hint of a snarl marked the environment. Worse than the hickey hovering near his partner’s lips, but the doodler could always hide it with concealer make-up. The empty container rolled underneath his feet, held tight by his toes when he squeezed it.

Back and forth.

The scribble of a Wacom pen fluttered into the toxicity, hovering over the shoulder of its master as a rough-sketch appeared over the drawing-pad. A chibi-figure with stubby legs, squishy arms, and a swoop of a hairstyle appeared. The doodler switched to different layers as he added pinks, blues, and yellows. Bits of gray for the hair, bits of blue and green for the eyes, and restless fingers found their peace when the image was saved and loaded onto his significant other’s computer.

A few clicks of the mouse before cursing erupted from the other side of the bedroom. An aluminum can didn’t hurt anymore. The doodler rubbed the back of his head, slumped over because of the usual lecture. Tuning out a dead radio, the doodler examined his work and pulled up another Nikiforov-interview from YouTube.

_ “It’s because of these issues, that’s why I work so hard.” _

After the video buffered, the doodler picked up his pen and drew again. No matter how many times his images were rejected, torn down, deleted without a second-thought, or chewed and spat out, the doodler kept drawing.

With every reject, the doodler saw another face in society that needed a smile.

He wasn’t going to turn his back on them.

 

\---

 

_ So what if they turned their back on him instead? _

Yuuri wasn’t mad. He should’ve been, but he wasn’t. Whatever emotions made him Human just...As soon as Yuuri heard Viktor’s lie, he wasn’t mad anymore. Simple as that when the AI-Unit propped his back against the Google app, arms crossed. Ears perked when Viktor slid his Sony device back to his side of the help desk.

It was silly to think that a complex emotion could suddenly be swayed by a single line, but Yuuri didn’t hear a trace of a lie over Viktor’s lips.

_ “I need to call my friend and tell him how much he means to me.”  _

Yuuri couldn’t see what was going on. The world was a blank space without its colors, but he felt a familiar warmth when the tinkling door bell alerted Yuuri that he and Viktor were now outside. Out from the phone store and out where Viktor could confess his feelings, and Yuuri had to reciprocate something. It was expected for an AI-Unit, even more so because Yuuri could talk back.

So after a breather,  _ a skip of the heartbeat _ , Viktor finally turned on his phone. Shifted his eyes to meet Yuuri’s because he wasn’t going to look away. Not again, not everything that they had been through.

Viktor confessed sincerely, whispering that he was selfish. Selfish for not mentioning this to Yuuri beforehand, selfish for thinking that this would make them both happy, and selfish to believe that he could go through with this because he was worried of his own image instead.

Wasn’t that a running trend with Viktor, nowadays? The man, _ that had so many people wrapped under his finger, _ was afraid of rejection. Then again, Viktor had a small taste when the media had a field-day with a misguided comment of his. It wasn’t strange to be afraid of what you didn’t know, but Yuuri didn’t cut Viktor any slack this time.

He climbed into his chibi-app and ducked under. Only poking his head out when a straw hat was nestled over his head.  _ “I’ll remember this.” _

“You and me.” Viktor lowered his head with a sigh. His bangs tickling over a face that Yuuri had only seen through a screen, and Yuuri couldn’t reach out to touch.

Apologies weren’t Viktor’s forte, but Yuuri tilted his head and acknowledged that Viktor was trying. To try was better than to give-up, and that meant a lot more than doing nothing. So Yuuri crawled out from his app, donned with touristy clothes before Viktor took him out for sightseeing.

None of it was planned, but the AI-Unit could read Viktor like a book. Because the man didn’t know how his actions affected others, Yuuri prepared himself for anything. But if he wanted to learn more behind Viktor’s madness, Yuuri needed to see the world through Viktor’s eyes.

He didn’t see the world behind a pair of teal.

He saw the world because Viktor opened the door wide, blinding Yuuri with colors he had never seen before until he found a softer shade to the man he once knew.

Viktor probably looked funny. Having a good chat with an AI-Unit that spoke back with speech bubbles, trying to preserve whatever dignity Viktor had left. But if Viktor had learned anything while in Switzerland-- _ and from earlier-- _ worrying about how others perceived you was the greatest downfall.

No matter how many questions Yuuri had at the top of his head, he had to admit that they could all be answered by a simple, toothy smile.

_ Viktor’s  _ smile, a smile that told Yuuri’s heart to beat again.

Because deep down, he was  _ Human  _ too.

 

\---

 

_ “Viktor Nikiforov, how do you see the skating community in the next twenty years?”  _ The question popped out of thin-air, barely reaching the recipient’s ear before Viktor flashed a signature  _ tilt-and-wink. _

Viktor was used to the cameras.

By the age of twenty-two, it was an instinct worth polishing. Sitting behind a crowded table with autographs and pens, hair recently cut because it was time for an  _ adult  _ persona to take on the ice. The new  _ hit  _ thing in the community, a  _ Coming of Age  _ for a rising legend amongst the younger generation.

But nonetheless, Viktor still maintained his clear-cut appearance. The stillness in his eyes, the sudden height of color when he leaned in close to the microphone. A whispery breath tugging the heartstrings of many because Viktor was a  _ not-so-secret, _ heartthrob.

Only boosted by a recent undercut, a flop of bangs brushed to the side. A luscious look and angle that was too beautiful to be legal, but Viktor had to  _ play it up  _ for a certain percentage of his fans.

Beyond this TV-persona, Viktor was serious with his answer because the reporter was serious with her question.

This was live-television. No chance for a redo, unless someone wanted to edit this segment out and Viktor seriously doubted that. _ Why? _ Because he was Viktor  _ fucking  _ Nikiforov, and the network would lose more money if they had to edit out his  _ devilish  _ smile off the screen. He had to work in one more wink before Yakov,  _ who sat next to him,  _ coughed loudly. Almost sounded like:  _ “Get on with it!” _

_ “I feel that…”  _ Viktor’s voice trailed off when a commercial came on. A colorful, international advertisement that droned into the ears of the beholder,  _ Yuutopia Hot Springs _ .

Mari turned off the TV, rose from her spot at the kitchen counter, and washed her dinner bowl in the sink. Hands running under the water, cupping said fluid, and splashing her face when all was said and done.

It had been five years since that old interview first played on TV. With the skating season on break, rerunning old interviews was one of the few ways that the channel could generate more revenue.

It didn’t matter to Mari because she hadn’t skated a day in her life, but watching the interview brought back memories of a simpler time. Where  _ another  _ used to sit by her side, cuddled against her elbow while watching an  _ idol  _ talk with such sincerity to his international fans.

Five years too late to remember any of this, but Mari didn’t brush the memories aside.

It was her turn to take care of  _ him. _

Her father, Toshiya, watched over him in the morning. Her mother, Hiroko, did the watching in the afternoon and early evening. And around dinnertime, it was Mari’s turn to act like the big sister that she needed to be. Even though her stomach flopped to its side with each step across the wooden floorboard.

When Mari slid open the bedroom door, her ears instinctively searched for the heart monitor. Reassured by a gentle rhythm before she closed the door behind her.

A bundle of tubes nestled under a white sheet when Mari approached. Pulled back a chair, sat near the foot of the bed, and just watched the tiny rise and fall of a feeble chest. Breathing mask fogged, de-fogged, and fogged up again with every breath. Mari reached out and pulled back the long bangs that covered  _ his  _ eyes. Mari needed to cut his hair again, but she could do it later.

Because right now, Mari simply sat in silence, wondering where she went wrong.

She could hold onto his hand, but would he know that  _ this  _ was her touch? Not just a random brush of the blanket, or the touch of a traitor or a murderer. Mari was someone that he could trust, but she knew better than to wait for a response.

The thought only tightened her grasp around her baby brother’s fingers, keeping them warm.

Every now and then, Mari felt a jolt. A slight twitch of a finger before the hand relaxed in her grasp. Mari was one step closer to seeing a familiar hint of cinnamon eyes, hidden under a jet of bangs.

The moment came sooner than she expected.

The usually still and quiet laptop by her brother’s bedside was working. The inner-fans blowing out heat as hard drives and CDs whizzed around inside. When Mari pulled the laptop up, she saw a view that only came once in a lifetime.

Staring right back at her was Viktor Nikiforov, himself. Chirpy with a hint of a blush riding over his cheekbones when he flipped his phone’s camera and showed some water fowl. Talking to a random person or to himself, unable to hear the bass of Mari’s heartbeat.

If she could see Viktor and Viktor couldn’t see her, that meant…

Mari clicked through the laptop and found more recordings, saved and stored in a specially-made folder before her brother closed his eyes one last time.

She saw the first recording of Viktor, the first interaction, the first line of dialogue, and the silliness that came afterwards. She found the abrupt pause that lasted a week and later viewed what happened after the hiatus. She found a birthday party recording, and the shenanigans that brought  _ life  _ to the stillness of the bedroom.

Foreign faces,  _ besides Viktor,  _ popped up. Mari could only guess and call them skaters because she didn’t understand a word that came out from their mouths. But they were happy, happy to converse with an individual that was a  _ literal  _ piece of sunshine.

Connected to the laptop was a little “crown”. Some sort of medical device that Mari and her parents could use to measure the wearer’s brain waves. One of the tell-tale signs of a lost soul returning back home after a long, long day. If the brain activity increased enough, the wearer would eventually “wake up” and she and her parents can...

Mari placed the “crown” over her baby brother’s head and saw a spike in brain activity. A tiny spike but a spike, nonetheless.

_ “Mom! Dad!” _ Mari never left her brother’s side when Hiroko and Toshiya rushed in. The  _ pitter patter  _ of their feet across the loose floorboards.

 

\---

 

A crook of a smile tugged the corner of Yuuri’s lips. Evidently, Viktor was curious as to why when they got back to Chris apartment complex. He glanced down and saw Yuuri,  _ lost in thought,  _ leaned against his chibi-app with a dazed distortion splashed across his eyes. A suppressed,  _ happy  _ memory whizzing over the AI-Unit’s eyes.

It was a sharp contrast from the giggles and pseudo-happiness that came between them during their short-lived sightsee. But perhaps, Yuuri was reminiscing about something and Viktor found no need to disturb him.

Not after a rocky morning, where their relationship was put to the test. Not when Viktor wasn’t sure if everything was okay with them or not

He had apologized, Yuuri’s acceptance was ambiguous at best and now, Yuuri had a crook of a grin and the previous adrenaline rush fizzled out from Viktor’s veins.

He wasn’t a hero, but a lonely man. Not exactly lonely because when he opened Chris’ door, he was greeted by Emma and the cat beckoned Viktor to come in. The soft clasp of the front door behind him when Viktor pulled his shoes off before charging his phone. Emma had already hidden herself somewhere. Probably squished in a cupboard or prowling under the futon-couch for something plump and juicy.

Chris was long-gone, probably running errands with Samuel when Viktor started packing. Loose clothes and dirty laundry stuffed into a scraggly suitcase that Viktor had since his junior days. A rough fabric for the hands to get used to, but the suitcase held up well and it was Viktor’s good luck charm. In any case, he needed that  _ good luck. _

He had spent enough time in Switzerland. It was time to go home.

See Makkachin and drop as many kisses as he could over the poodle’s shaggy head. Whisk Mila away for some sandwiches before cleaning off the edge of her lips with a napkin because she always tore into her food. Join Georgi for the movie nights on the weekend, plucking horror and theatrical pieces to embellish in their routines with.  _ Give the audience a bit of a bite, _ Viktor would growl while he and Georgi did each other’s mascara during the movie-marathon. And finally, dodge the onslaught of tricks up Yurio’s arsenal when he tried to push Viktor off his golden pedestal.

_ Spread Eagle  _ before the  _ Quad Salchow  _ for Viktor’s new routine, a dusty performance that he had planned on the whim before Yurio built his own counterattack. Ready to “knock” Viktor off the ice, but the feisty kitten had to be a bit quicker with his feet. Viktor wasn’t a  _ speed demon  _ just for show because he brought the rebellion with him when he stepped foot onto Yakov’s ice rink. A sudden chill up the thigh because you almost couldn’t move when he was on the ice.

Those were the sights and thrills Viktor could only feel back at home.

However, he did enjoy the endless sunshine every time he woke up in Switzerland. Squished in Chris’ embrace while Samuel was somewhere on the floor, rolled into a blanket-cocoon and only the tufts of his hair sticking out. A light snore.

Nothing was better than seeing a morning quote from Yuuri after a touch of the phone. A pleasurable scratch behind Emma’s ear when the cat leapt onto the dining table to snooze under a patch of sun.

Hell, Viktor enjoyed his mini-break from the ice. It was unbearable,  _ sure.  _ But even without the constant contact from rink mates and a volcanic Yakov, Viktor didn’t stop training if he could help it. Evidence by the litter of warm-up videos that trashed his browser’s history because a figure skater can’t lose their flexibility this late in the game. Not when Viktor was considered a literal dinosaur on the ice, along with Georgi.

Imagine that: two lumbering dinosaurs approaching an ice rink with sleighs as skates while a flamingo and a  _ pom-pom  _ kitten rolled around and slid across a frozen lake. A triceratops would look up to the stegosaurus before backing out because the mammoths died from getting trapped in frozen lakes and mud. Not good for prehistoric beasts, but  _ supposedly  _ safe for a side-shuffling flamingo and a sliding cat.

Eh, Viktor was giving himself a headache.

_ “Viktor, shouldn’t you order a flight ticket before packing?”  _ A mere suggestion, but Yuuri had a good point.

Viktor was two-steps ahead when he needed to fall one-step behind. But when he picked up his phone to see Yuuri clearly, the AI-Unit was already checking several websites for an affordable deal. Checking the stops, reading airline reviews over the top of his head, and barely making eye-contact with Viktor when the latter started tickling the back of Yuuri’s head with a gentle thumb.

_ “Please don’t do that.” _

Viktor backed off.

_ “I just want to be alone right now,”  _ Yuuri sighed before sinking out from the browser. Allowing Viktor to privately choose an airline for himself if he wanted to do that.

Was it strange for Viktor to be concerned? It couldn’t be helped.

Despite the good-feelings, Yuuri did say that he would never forget that Viktor tried to  _ fix  _ him. A mistake that Viktor knew that he couldn’t atone for in a single day, let alone an hour and a half under a summer light bulb. It was too good to be true, but Viktor had to brush that aside for now.

He glanced down at the websites that Yuuri pulled up and liked the choices. He picked a flight, wiggled out his credit card, and paid for his luggage. He would’ve preferred if Yuuri had chosen something a bit more classy than economy-style, but no one would recognize him if he flew in coach. A perfect backdrop before landing in St. Petersburg.

“Thank you, Yuuri.” He knew that Yuuri was listening because the phone’s screen went black on its own. Right after Viktor’s purchase, right after he reviewed the notes over his flight and was satisfied with everything.

Viktor brought the phone up to his lips and whispered something that no one else would hear.

Emma distracted herself with an empty toilet paper roll.

 

\---

 

Concealer covered the ridge of a former scar down Viktor’s neck.

He rubbed the soft power over with his thumb, angling his neck every which way under the light. Touching the beginning of his downfall, a line that was close to snapping nearly eleven years ago.

Viktor didn’t have a headache, but his forehead felt a bit stressed. He rested a cold palm over it, hoping that the residual  _ thumps  _ and  _ pokes  _ would reside for just a little longer. Inhale for five seconds, exhale for seven. Get oxygen flowing into his blood so he won’t pop a vessel later on.

A week had passed since Viktor bought himself a plane ticket. He looked at himself for the first time during that time-span. There was a plan to this madness.

Under the cover of darkness, Chris was going to take him to the airport while Samuel watched the cat. Before checking in, Viktor and Chris were going to have one last hurrah by commenting on all the articles that attempted to sully Viktor’s skating image before clinking plastic glasses, filled to the brim with apple cider.

Booze was out of the question.

But if Viktor need a pick-me-up, he could always plug his earbuds into his phone and text back and forth with a rather chirpy Yuuri. Something about the AI-Unit’s mood had swung and shifted into a positive direction.  _ Why?  _ Viktor wasn’t exactly sure, but it was a sharp contrast from before.

 

\---

 

_ “Why do you hide your scar?”  _ Yuuri had asked him about it a few days ago. When he first saw Viktor without the concealer, first saw the jagged line that nearly claimed his life all those years ago.

“People don’t like to remember it,” Viktor had replied back. Short of a mumble when he rubbed the make-up on with his thumb. Blending the crumbly powder into his skin, adding shade so that it would match his skin tone.

_ “It makes you Human, don’t you think?” _

“What makes me Human makes someone else guilty.” Viktor shook a container of pills and took one for his headache.

Yuuri scoffed.  _ “You care too much.” _

Viktor raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Yuuri never specified what he meant, but Viktor had a sneaking suspicion that Yuuri was referring to himself instead. There was a fractured life hiding behind a simple pane of glass, and Viktor could only live on his side while Yuuri sat in silence on the other.

 

\---

 

By the time the plane landed in St. Petersburg, Viktor saw a familiar crowd of people by the arrival gate. A wad of spit got stuck in his throat, and Yuuri went through the motions of calming Viktor down before he choked.

Nothing was scarier than a gang of reporters.  _ They  _ were the only things that instinct couldn’t polish itself for, and Viktor glanced through the few texts he had with Yurio, roughly four hours ago.

The youth said that he would be standing near the gate with a noticeable sign. But judging by the onslaught of hungry media-hounds, Viktor would be lucky if he even made off the plane in one piece.

Keeping his earbuds in his ear, Viktor got up when it was his turn and shuffled down the aisle before reaching the arrival gate. Face hidden behind his signature pair of sunglasses, hair tousled to the side for incognito but it was a fail-attempt at a disguise because people couldn’t tear their eyes off of him. By some miracle, no one stopped him for an autograph.

_ God bless it. _

Right on cue, Viktor found Yurio standing on a mini-platform so that his sign could tower above all the media-hounds.

**_BUSTED_ **

Really, Yurio? Not inconspicuous in the slightest, but the English word stood proudly in bold and Viktor made a beeline towards it. Just as Yurio snatched Viktor and pulled him into the crowd before anyone noticed what was going on. Lectured a storm into Viktor’s ear, but it sounded like music to the latter’s ear. A harsh bang of a guitar to wake up the rebellious flame, lurked deep inside.

“Where the  _ Hell  _ have you been?” Yurio hissed, yanking Viktor’s sunglasses down. Face-to-face with his on/off rval. “You just dropped Makkachin at my place and left.  _ Oh my God.  _ The dog scared Poyta half-to-death within thirty minutes.  _ Thirty!  _ Poyta has the Human-equivalent of PTSD because of dogs, and you just--!”

There was a lot of gesturing with hands, and a few gestures were too rude to describe. However, they were universal in meaning and Viktor did his best to keep a pretty smile.

“Thank you for taking care of Makkachin~”

Yurio called for a time-out to pick-up his lower jaw.  _ “Did you not hear a word that came out from my mouth?” _

“I have  _ French  _ on the brain.” Viktor winked. Yurio gagged.

Standing behind the youth was a short from irate Yakov, but the coach could hold his lectures off for later. Right now, the three of them needed to escape from the airport before the reporters were hot on their trail.

But as they shuffled away from the arrival gate, Yakov did have a few words to say. All in English so that only he, Viktor, and Yurio could understand.

Gruff words, rounded on the edge because English wasn’t Yakov’s best choice of words, but he conveyed his happiness in his own Yakov-ish way.  _ Tough love. _

A very cold Hell was waiting for Viktor back at the ice rink because of the personal  _ inferno  _ Yakov had to deal with when the former disappeared about a month ago. But despite the staccato sentences and nightmarish training in the near-future, Viktor heard a hint of a smile in Yakov’s voice.

When Viktor was younger, he wasn’t very good at controlling his emotions. So whenever he felt a meltdown coming, he would hug Yakov and the gruff coach would shed his mean-persona for just a moment to give Viktor all the support and love he needed before a performance.

Right now,  _ as a grown man,  _ Viktor didn’t feel a meltdown coming. His eyes were a bit watery and granted, he missed Yakov’s hugs. Yakov didn’t protest when Viktor clung to his arm, but he did comment that the gesture was silly and almost embarrassing.

“You miss him too, coach. You’re fooling nobody.” Yurio’s smart-mouth struck its first foul, but Yakov was quick to forget the comment because it was true. Just knowing that a pupil of his was alive and well was enough to quell the bass in Yakov’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanna read something that updates a bit more frequently? Check out my mafia!bird story, [Crescent of the Sun](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11954316/chapters/27029022), or C.O.T.S. as I like to call it XD


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